


Moving On

by DayenuRose



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (Comic), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Rooftop Garden, gala - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayenuRose/pseuds/DayenuRose
Summary: During a gala, Dick heads to the roof to find some much needed solitude. While he’s there, he can’t quite help dwelling on the past. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea if he’s trying to move on…
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> A little while back [deadhermiteyes](https://deadhermiteyes.tumblr.com/) posted a lovely piece of Dick/Babs fan art she drew. (View it [here!](https://deadhermiteyes.tumblr.com/post/618329376078151680/we-used-to-leave-the-galas-and-come-here-all-the) It really is lovely). And she happened to mention that she’d like it if someone would write something based off of it. Which, in turn, kick-started my writing brain and I was inspired to write this piece. 
> 
> Also, the artist captioned her picture with the line: _“We used to leave the galas and come here all the time when we were kids, Dick. They’re gonna find us!”_ I have included it in the story (with a minor edit). All credit for that line goes to her.

The gala was in full swing. Photo ops had been snapped and sound bites gathered. The charity had been praised—a foundation supporting adult literacy programs—and the family thanked for their continuing support. _Especially in these trying times...._ The evening had marched on at a maddening slow pace until Dick didn’t think he could stand another moment of this farce. Then, as it had always been the case since he was a child, there was a moment when the crowd ceased to pay attention to him and he might as well have been invisible. Taking advantage of this lapse of attention, Dick slipped away from the gala and made good his escape. He had a few minutes before he would be missed. 

Leaving the party behind, Dick made his way to the roof. The access door shut behind him on groaning hinges, leaving him alone in the blissful silence of the rooftop garden. Listlessly he meandered along the path which wound in and out of various garden patches, while his thoughts wandered a less steady way. 

They had convinced him to come tonight. They had told him it was time, that this was important, but the gala had been too much. Too many people with too many questions. He had to get away. Even if it was only for a moment. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and took in the cool night air heavy with the promise of rain. This he missed. 

From this perspective, high over the city, Dick felt more at home than he did when he was on the ground below, mingling with people he scarcely knew. Playing a role and _moving on_. He hated that phrase. That was all anyone said to him anymore. 

Dick sat along the low retaining wall, confident he would not fall despite being six stories above the ground. Shrugging out of his jacket and loosening his tie, he abandoned both on the ledge beside him. They were strangling him. He could barely breathe as it was. He needed...he needed _her_. 

It had been too long since he’d taken to the rooftops. He couldn’t, not anymore. It would be foolish, irresponsible. He _wouldn’t._

Still, Dick could taste the freedom which leaping off rooftops and gliding through the air had always granted him before. It had been too long since he felt like the _“daring young man on the flying trapeze.”_ Oh, how she used to tease him. 

Shaking his head as though it were possible to clear his brain of the unwanted thoughts. Too many memories clung to his shoulders —clipped his wings and pinioned him to the ground. The wind bit through the thin silk of his shirt and ruffled his hair. _Tomorrow,_ he told himself, _I’ll go back on the trapeze tomorrow._ From there, maybe things would look brighter. It had helped in the past. He just needed this tonight. 

Retrieving the device from his jacket pocket, Dick turned it over and over again in his hands. He shouldn’t be doing this. He promised....

With a click, Dick turned on the device, set it on the ledge and waited. 

“Dick? Are you up here?” Babs’ voice rang through the otherwise silent night. It was too close, while at the same time being far too distant. 

Hesitating for only a moment, Dick pushed himself to his feet and stood as still as stone. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be here. He needed to stop living in the past. 

“Dick, where are you? This isn’t funny.” Despite the rebuke in her words, there was amusement in her voice. 

He didn’t rush to her as had once been his custom. Instead he stayed his mark. If he wanted this, he needed to stay here. To endure the wait, Dick closed his eyes and breathed deeply. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t quite fill his lungs. 

“There you are, Hunk Wonder,” Babs called as she rounded the corner of the path. Her movements were slow and a bit awkward. After the experimental spinal surgery started to fail, she had good days and bad ones. More often than not, she spent most of her time in her wheelchair than not. But, for this occasion, she’d felt up to walking. 

“Yeah, here I am.” His voice almost sounded normal. Not that she would notice one way or the other. 

Dick opened his eyes and openly stared at Babs, drinking in every detail. Her smile lit up her face and a teasing glimmer sparked in her green eyes. At the sight of her, his heart raced in his chest. His expression softened and his lips curled into a smile. This...he needed _this_. 

Her eyes. They sparked with more excitement than they usually did when they met for these secret assignations. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Dick grinned. “I needed to get away for a moment.” 

“I know. Me too. No matter how many times we do this, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to all this hobnobbing.” The breeze caught at her hair as she pulled out the pins and allowed the long locks to tumble about her shoulders. The loose braid which had formally accented the updo was quickly lost amid the red curls. She massaged her temples and exhaled a sigh of relief. “That feels better.” 

He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, but held back. 

Taking a step closer, she shivered and ran a hand over her bare arms. “It’s getting too cold for rooftop meetings.”

“But the view is gorgeous.” His gaze followed the deep v neckline of her dark charcoal dress. 

A rosy flush coloured her pale cheeks as she followed the progression of his hungry gaze. “Dick, not here. We used to leave the galas and come here all the time when we were kids. They’re gonna find us!” 

“We have a few minutes before anyone will miss us,” he mumbled. Spinning her around so her back pressed against his front, Dick wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, interlacing their fingers. The pose wasn’t as easy or as comfortable, as it had once been. His left arm traced down the length of hers until he captured her hand in his. He tried ignore the missing cool metal of her wedding band. Babs giggled, the joy effusing every ounce of her being.

“The gardens look lovely. You did a great job.” Though he was trying to distract her from the cold and the thoughts of discovery, Dick truly meant the compliment. Babs had helped create this little haven of green in their city. Each of the half dozen or so plots contained a different colorful and fragrant offering. 

Never one to forget the hardships of the No Mans Land quarantine, Babs had insisted they include vegetables among the gardens. There were tomatoes and peppers. Heads of lettuce and kale. Zucchini vines snaked their way through the neat rows. 

Not far from where he stood now, a small patch of wild flowers grew nearby, offering a colorful bounty of flowers. A trio of beehives nestled among the daisies, clovers, and a myriad of other flowers he couldn’t name. The bee were quiet in the deepening night, though in the morning the buzz of an active hive would begin anew. 

Closing his eyes, he dipped his head and tried to prolong the moment. Breathing deeply, he inhaled rose and lavender. The scent he loved—the one he longed for—was missing. Long gone was the subtle, sweet scent of vanilla. Babs had once admitted she preferred a perfume with a touch of vanilla. It reminded her of the old books she loved. She’d explained the chemistry—as the paper broke down, it carried the scent of vanillin. Her passion for books was one of the many things he loved about her. He could not count the number...

“Dick,” Babs’ voice interrupted his runaway thoughts. “I’ve got something to tell you.” 

“Mmhmm,” Dick managed to choke around the lump in his throat, no longer able to pretend everything was okay. No longer able to stick to the script. Babs continued as though he had never missed his cue. He opened his eyes to see her face, needing to see it one more time. 

Who was he kidding? Once more would never be enough. Her green eyes are bright with all the potential of bright tomorrows. She flickered in his arms. 

“Dick...”

The access door creaked, breaking the moment before she could share the news. 

“Daddy? Are you up here?” 

Dick started. The image of Babs flickered again as he stumbled back and scrambled for the projector from its place on the ledge. He flicked it off, leaving him once again alone. 

“Annie, I’m back here.” Dick dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief, though he couldn’t hide the red. He didn’t mind if his daughter saw the telltale signs of his tears. After all, _It’s okay to cry_ , had become a near mantra around their home since Babs’ death six months ago. Over that span of time he had cried enough to fill the oceans of the world several times over. 

No, he didn’t mind if she found him crying. Rather the problem was that once she located him, his time alone would be over. They would need to rejoin the gala. Once more he would be subject to the pitying glances, the uncomfortable silences, and—God forbid—the empty condolences. People were beginning to move from the ‘I understand, take all the time you need’ to the ‘Why aren’t you over this yet?’. 

Their extended family was better, but none of them knew how to help Dick and his children grieve. They couldn’t adopt the family’s usual method for dealing with loss. Cancer left no enemies to beat up. No mystery to solve, no justice to enact. Death’s revolving door stayed firmly shut this time. He was no Orpheus able to charm open the gates of Hades. 

Annie found him exactly where he had stood. She clutched a book in her hands, grasping the spine until her knuckles turned white. Allowing her to bring a book was the only way he could get her to come. Behind her glasses, wide, lost eyes searched the gardens. She ran the last few feet to him and threw her arms around his waist in an embrace. With her face pressed into his shirt, it was hard to hear her amid the muffled sniffles. “I was scared when I couldn’t find you. I thought I lost you too.” 

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” Dick gathered his daughter in his arms and held her to his chest. It hurt to look at her. She was so much like her mother with her bright red hair and the liberal sprinkling of freckles. Annie had his eyes—the shape and colour—but he always thought they shone with the same bright curiosity which had been Babs’. Before his legs gave way, Dick sank down to the ledge and resisted the urge to break down in sobs. He needed to be strong for her. 

When Annie’s sniffling ceased, Dick relaxed his embrace. Annie slipped out of his arms. A Grayson through and through, his ten year old daughter showed no fear as she sat on the ledge beside him. Her leg bounced in an unsteady rhythm. Resting her head against his arm, they sat in silence listening for the hum of the traffic below. 

“Where’s Henry?” Breaking the silence, Dick asked after her twin brother, the two were scarcely seen without the other. He slipped his jacket back on, but left off the tie. 

Between all his siblings, Steph, Alfred, Bruce, and Jim—Dick and Babs had never worried about their children at events like these. With the training ingrained into each of them from their nights working together to keep Gotham safe, his family watched over his children. It was almost uncanny how the children passed from one set of watchful eyes to another without the explicit need to organize the process. But, like everything since Babs had died, that too seemed broken. She had held their little world together. When they had Oracle’s all seeing gaze watching their backs, the extended family’s self-appointed mission felt a little bit safer, a little more possible. Now, the Clocktower was empty, the Oracle was silenced. 

A sob hitched in his chest. He pulled Annie close and held her tight.

Annie shrugged. “There’s too many people here, so he left with Aunt Cass. Grandpa Bruce knows...”

“You didn’t want to go with them?” He tried to keep his voice light. He didn’t care if she attended the party or not, just that she was safe. 

“I wanted to find you first.” She worried her bottom lip. Silently she ticked off each member of their extended family on her fingers as she mentally recalled their locations. 

Dick’s heart ached. His bold, vivacious children had turned quiet, never straying far from each other or family. Annie needed to know where everyone was at all times and Henry couldn’t stand crowds. If they hadn’t inherited Babs’ brilliance, there had been rumblings of holding them back a year in school. Dick was all they had now. He couldn’t be risking his life on a nightly basis. He couldn’t leave them orphans.

Annie picked up the projector and turned it over in her hands. “Is this Mama’s...?”

“Yes,” Dick plucked the device out of her hands. His fingers hovered over the switch. From diagnosis to her death, it had been nearly a year. It was all too short a time, but Babs had never given up hope. Even in her last pain filled days, Babs had never stopped trying to find ways to take care of them all. Trying to extend her reach beyond her passing. 

In the time she had left, she and Dick had created the projector. Adapting her training room technology, they had created a way to record memories and play them back in lifelike vignettes. They had started with her memories, then his. It was all they had time for, before it was too late. He was suppose to continue adding stories—and the twins', and her father’s, Bruce’s, his siblings’, her teams’, everyone whose lives she had touched. There had been so many. Once the collected stories were gathered and woven together, they would have a comprehensive record of Babs’ life. 

“I miss Mama.” Annie ran her fingers along the spine of her book. It was the last book Babs had given their daughter. Though Annie carried it with her everywhere, she had yet to read it. 

“Would you like to see what I was watching?” It was time to share this memory. 

She nodded. 

Dick flipped the switch. The image flickered to life (a sick feeling twisted in his stomach at that turn of phrase) and paused where he had left the scenario. This simulacrum of Dick and Babs were so young. Even his daughter noticed the difference. She ran a hand through her dad’s hair, now liberally streaked with grey. He no longer tried to hide the passage of time. Pressing the button again, the memory played from where he left off. 

“Dick,” The memory-Babs repeated his name, making certain she had his attention. Their eyes locked and the love was unmistakable. Eager and hopeful. Even back then, he already knew what she was going to say. How could he not? Babs took one last deep breath, before announcing her news with a radiant smile. “I’m pregnant.”

The smile on Dick’s face was as brilliant as the sun. He swooped Babs up in his arms and spun her. When at last he set down his wife, he kept a steadying arm around her waist. Lightly pressing his free hand to her stomach, he leaned in and kissed her.

In the present, Dick allowed the image to linger for a moment before turning off the projector. Tears ran down Annie’s cheeks at the sight of her mama alive and vibrant. 

“That’s the night we learned about you and your brother,” Dick murmured into his daughter’s hair, holding her close. 

“I wish...I wish she could come back to us,” Annie whispered. “I miss her so much.” 

“So do I sweetheart. So do I.” Dick closed his eyes and breathed in the night. The subtle scent of vanilla was missing. Their world would never be the same. And it wasn’t meant to be. They would go on, somehow. He couldn’t see the way— yet—but he knew they would find it. Together.


End file.
